But when it Is over...

The thing about it...my Giants did win. And I'm so glad.

The last time a home team lost in Game 7 was the year my parents got married. That was a long time ago. There have only been nine Game 7s since, including the one that was played yesterday.

The thing that always kills me, and turns me off from watching sports in general, is that losing hurts on such a greater magnitude than winning feels good. Watching the faces of the Royals...the despair, the grief, the fighting back tears...I genuinely felt gut-wrenchingly sad for them. Here they are, a tiny-market team that made it to the end of October for the first time since before I was born (also a long time ago, but not as long as my parents have been married), and they have everything they need: fast guys, awesome defense, decent starting pitchers, and stellar relief pitchers. It was right there! They could have won at home. It was so close. Just one hit, and the game could have been different. The MVP would have been different. Maybe the Chevy guy wouldn't have stuttered so bad at the awards ceremony. Who knows? The look of utter disbelief made me sad.

I will admit, the giddy hug-jump-dance at the middle of the field looks fun, so if you're a Giant, have fun, and be smart like Panda and bring goggles so you don't get champagne in your eyes. He probably learned that after the first time. Just goes to show what experience will do for you. (I honestly hope the champagne they pop everywhere is the cheap stuff. Why spray it around the locker room anyway, otherwise? I also feel sorry for the janitors. I hope the Giants paid the cleaning bill.) To lose at home and watch others prance around your home territory just seems like adding insult to injury.

Also, SF fans, what's with the two gunfights and one stabbing in "celebration?" Not cool.

But sadly for the Royals, it is, in fact, over. Wish I could have gone to a game. Also wish that I could go with my coworker JB to the parade tomorrow. Who cares about the rain? It would be fun...and I'm not even that into parades.


Side note about the 2012 Giants team: 

I had just moved to Oregon in 2012 when they went on their stat-defying run. Through the rain, through injury...they fought and fought. I had a crush on Brandon Crawford.  I trash talked with my friend who grew up in St. Louis and assured me that the Cards would beat the Giants handily. Panda's three-home-run game was epic. It seemed like they wanted it. They seemed like real people. They made mistakes, and there were nail-biting moments. The reality seemed to go in slow motion because I was drinking it all in -- I was so stressed out, having just moved, and missing Seattle and my coworkers so much I almost couldn't breathe some days.

I felt like I was a Giant...that I was going to make it through the rain, through the travel, against the stacked odds...and they won. I won. I'll remember that World Series in a way I probably won't remember any other.